Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 16i

Maddock looked up at the blue sky and saw the first high tendrils of cloud streaming across its brightness. If the rains did not come that day then they would come in the night, and the fortress would doubtless be glad of their relief. He could feel the oppressive unease that smothered the Enclosures, and he knew it was not just the day's dense heat that was causing it. Every pen was occupied by an ill-tempered male madriel, and the place was filled with their growls, and by the constant loud cracking of their horns as they vented their frustration on the thick wooden bars that caged them.

If the aggravations of the Pride were so palpably fierce, they were nothing compared to the seething anger of its High Madriel-master. Even the most senior Madriel-masters were wary in the face of Sprak's rage as he stomped about the place, cursing at everything, from small perceived deficiencies in his staff's work, to the stupidity of the Order's Commanders for having the Pride confined with the rains so imminent. They had already been penned for two days, and as the skies grew darker in the north, so did Master Sprak's mood. Maddock was thankful he had been given permission to get away from the Enclosures and their High Madriel-master's snarling menace.

He and the other Field-hands had been working without rest since the previous day, and in that time they had found out nothing about why the Order was gathering its forces. Many rumours and wild speculations had been flying around all day, but the Masters would confirm none of them, so when Master Dramut granted him the afternoon's reprieve, he decided to go up to the Workshops and see if Dak knew anything. He was fairly certain that she would know less than him about things, but it would be nice to get her logical view on what it all meant.

Even the shade of the barbican-fort's gateway offered little respite from the heat, though the two Forge-guard, in their heavy tragasaur hide armour, seemed untroubled by it. The larger of the two was almost three metres tall, his thick hair streaked with grey. The knuckles of his hand, which rested on the head of his double-axe, were disfigured by the welts of old scars, and his wide chest was covered in rank-bolts.

He watched dispassionately as Maddock approached, but then his dour features split in a wide grin.

"Well if it is not being Dakskansia Padrid's little friend, the Madriel-master."

"Not a Madriel-master yet, Harev."

The huge guard bent down to regard him more closely, his grin remaining wide.

"But soon, I would not be surprised to find, the way that Tomova's daughter is recounting your successes."

"I ain't really got started. I know Dak means well, but I've not really done anything yet."

Harev straightened up and scratched his thick greying beard.

"Well yours is not a job that I envy you for having and good luck, I say, to anyone that can be doing it."

"Well, thanks, er, speaking of Dak, can you get a message to her so I can get an invitation to come in?"

"I am afraid that is a thing that I cannot be doing."

"Oh," said Maddock.

"Dakskansia is not within the bounds of the Workshops."

"Oh," said Maddock again, his brows creasing.

"But I am knowing where she is. She has gone north to the river with her friend, the little Order girl. She said that they were going shooting. You may catch them if you are being quick enough."

"Don't know if I really want to, but okay. Thanks Harev."

Maddock didn't know what to do with himself then. He didn't really want to find Dak if that girl was with her, but he did wonder if the stuck up little brat might know something about what was going on. She was Commander Kralaford's daughter after all.